Rhana Dandra
by TheWatch
Summary: The galaxy burns as the Tyranids and the Ruinous Powers do battle. These are the End Times as told by the people who lived and died in them.
1. Chapter 1

Introduction

Fear had ruled in the final days of the universe. Trillions of souls had cried out to their gods. Praying for peace or salvation. Great swathes of the universe burned. Gods and men fought. Innumerable abominations spread in the black void of space, crushing world after world.

The Imperium was in its final days. A hulking carcass finally rotted. It's borders collapsed as wave after wave of Tyranids and Chaos Traitors assaulted the galaxy. The once inexhaustible Imperial Guard was shattered and bloody. Once the tide of men may have stemmed the flow of enemies the humans had faced. However, the lure of the dark powers had claimed many. Even the space marines, the Emperor's chosen servants were all but defeated or turned, barring a few hold out chapters that held onto their worlds. Content to watch over their subjects in the final days. Only these few words, and Terra, the last bastion of the humans remained. Still clinging to their God Emperor.

The other civilizations fared little better. The Tau, optimistic till the end fell against the great devourer and the ruinous powers. The once mighty nation reduced to prey for the eternally advancing Tyranids. Few of their number survived. Small pockets of desperate ships fled into the stars. Every stop a brush with oblivion. Only the Far Sight Conclaves remained, small hidden worlds and moons. The proud Tau reduced to frightened vermin cowering the blackness.

The Necrons had gathered and consolidated. Unable to assimilate them, the Tyranids had fallen upon an unyielding and cruel enemy. One with the callus will to challenge the Hive Mind. The Silent Kings had thrown their considerable might together and stood against the ruinous powers and the Tyranids with general success. The chaos followers tried to tempt or destroy them, but their wrath had been met with cold extermination. The Necrons were locked in a stalemate against both. Bathing the galaxy in fire and blood.

The orks were the only race to thrive right up until the end. Belligerent to the end, they had fought all comers. They met daemons, men, and other aliens alike with equal contempt and blood rage. Even greater servants of the dark gods fell to the green tide. But the swarm did not break so easily. The Tyranids had grown strong off of the many orks they had assimilated. In the end the Tyranids proved more evolved for killing, than even the greenskins.

My own people watched the end approach with no small amount of sadness. We, the children of Asuryan, are no strangers to sorrow and death. My people had been living on indebted time since our Fall so long ago. When the human world of Cadia fell and the black crusade burned across the stars, we ran. our craftworlds fled to very edge of the galaxy. Some perished before then. Ulthwe and Bel Tian, once our strongest, fell in defense of Cadia. Sacrificed to buy the galaxy time. It wasn't enough. The Tyranids and the dark ones battled across the galaxy. Two innumerable hordes. Sorcery and Hellfire against endless biological monstrosities. The worst of both realms. Between them the peoples of the galaxy burned

As death spreads across the void, so few of my people remain. I have taken it upon myself to record our history and failings in these final days. Maybe the next cycle of life in the cosmos will be wiser because of it. Perhaps not. We Eldar deserve this for our role in She-Who-Thirst's birth. Our vanity caused us to doom ourselves. The humans are little better. Their depravity and violence only furthers the strength of the gods.

My Name is Tanmar of Saim-Hann. I am one of the last of the Eldar. I look now at my daughter. She is so still. She sleeps next to me as I write. Her mind is too young to understand the horrors that have befallen the galaxy. I wished for a better universe for her. One where our best and brightest didn't have to be sacrificed. This is the story of the end of all life. Rhana Dandra is upon us. Isha preserve us.


	2. Chapter 2

**Apologies for the late/short chapter. New to writing in a non-scholastic setting. Peace out Heretics.**

"Father"? Her small voice cries out. A beacon of pure innocence in the burning galaxy.

"Yes my sweet"?

She turns to me. Her large green eyes staring at my face with childlike innocence.

"Where is mother"?

The question makes my blood run cold as the void. I had been telling the child that my bond-mate was coming soon. That she had some of our people to help. In truth she was slain. In our last meeting, she had bid me and our daughter farewell. Children do not understand war and death as we do. My mate stood firm until the last against the great devourer.

"Beloved, your mother has passed from this life to the next".

"She's... dead? But she was strong. Uncle Indreal said the aspect warriors never die".

"I'm sorry beloved. They can... She was very brave".

She sits still. Her eyes squeeze shut. Hands clench. Her small head shakes. She begins to cry. Small tears rolling down her narrow face. I brush my hand through her hair and hold her close. A warning alarm cuts through the silence. I look out of my room's window. A grim sight meets me. A small splinter fleet of corrupted chaos vessels hovering in the darkness. They are approaching the craft world. I put my daughter in her room and bolt the door. I ignore her complaints and questions. I don't want her to see what I have to do.

I stare at a chest on the side of the room. It's simple and lacks any ornate decoration. It's simplicity belies its deadly content. Inside lies the memory of another life, a role of death and destruction in service to a now dying god. I open the chest and for the first time in three hundred years, put on the aspect of the Reaper. The Bloody Hand of Khaine the first murderer and Lord of War. As my helmet seals into place for the last time I hear the voice of my Phoenix Lord whisper to me " _Let not the fear of death stay your hand nor defeat your courage. The warrior who will prevail is the one who conquers death, who becomes one with death as we have_ ". I raise up my weapon. It's a beautiful thing that belies a darker purpose. My bond-mates soul gem glows softly on it's surface. A last roar of defiance to the enemy. Her voice speaks from it, searing into my mind. Soft yet fiery. She tells me to not let them take our child.

I leave my room. Guardians and my fellow Aspect warriors sprint down the halls. Indreal among them. He meets my mask with a sad smile. He draws on his rangers hood and readies his long rifle, I join them. I hear the opening salvos and drop pods start thudding off of the hull. The wraithbone screams in our minds. We reach the main courtyard of our craftworld. We are silent. We all know what happens if we fail. Our children will be dragged kicking and screaming into the warp if the warriors assembled in this room fail the exterminate the foe. The massive double doors ahead of us begin to buckle. I hear the inhuman wails and shrieks of the damned from behind it. The door breaks and falls. The first several human through the door howls and rushes forward chain-swords in hand. Four sharp shot snap their heads back and they tumbles. Indreal to my left cycles his weapon. The next few are far larger. A chaos tainted space marine squad. They raise their bolter and their shots shred a dire avenger next to me. Indreal and I retaliate in kind. My weapon hums and the air fills with fire and death. His cracks through battlefield precise and quick. The space marines have only a second to react before they are sent to the floor in a bloody heaps. We dive into cover as a chaos dreadnought walks into the room. The floor groans underneath its weight.

I begin to lose track of the beasts and traitors I slay. Their last breaths hang in the air around me like a dark fog. The runes and stones on my armentants glow, feeding me strength. Their shrieks of pain and cries for clemency fall on uncaring ears. These fiends betray all life itself with their blasphemy. They give no mercy and they shall receive none from me. Another cultist rushes me. His laspistol shots bounce off of my shields. I catch him mid leap with a torrent of shot. Foul chunks of his flesh rain down on me. Another tries his luck. He to joins his brethren strewn about the courtyard. Each death fills me with cold resolve. My armour thrums with soul energy. Each foolish creature or sentient that breaches the threshold is sent wailing into the warp.

We reach a lull. No new forces try to breach the room. In their folly some of the younger eldar relax and begin to speak. I silence them. No Chaos raid is ever over fast. I'm soon proven right. A soft enchanting melody wafts through the door. The younger in the room are entranced. The sound makes my blood run cold. A being of unimaginable beauty and horror slowly walks into room. Easily a head or more taller than us. It begins stalking. It's eyes crawl across us like we are meat on display. It finally speaks, its silky yet profane sounding voice sending fear spiking across the group.

"Aren't you tired of fighting"? It asks, face and eyes twisted in a cruel mockery of sympathy. "Let us in" it begs. It focuses on me. A sick smile spreads across its face. "We will spare your daughter" it sings. I stiffen my resolve falters for an instant, I hear my bondmates cries in my mind. She begs me not to listen. The Daemon languidly edges closer the whole room transfixed on it. "Please little ones, I mean you no harm". The Daemon moves close to me. I can feel it's perfumed breath on my mask. Its long purple tongue slowly licking my mask. I can't move. Neither can anyone else in the room. "If you don't make up you mind little Eldar, I may take her for myself". The creatures obscene gaze tells me what fate awaits our children if I fall. My bond-mates voice cuts through the fog. "Tan" she whispers "send this abomination back to the underworld".

I fire on the creature. It hisses and recoils as hot energy boils across its chest and stomach. It reaches back and strikes me across my chest with unnatural strength. I feel the room spin as I impact the wall behind me. As my eyes swim, the Daemon approaches me claws outstretched. Inderal puts a hot plasma shot through the beast's left eye. It screams as its face carbonizes. As the Daemon grabs its head in agony I pull a small knife from my side and tackle it to the floor. I cut its babbling short with a swift blow to its throat. The body slowly vanishes beneath me leaving only a sickly sweet scent that hangs in the air.


End file.
